


Just Might Be

by ashinae, jay_linden



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinae/pseuds/ashinae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_linden/pseuds/jay_linden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If necessity is the mother of invention, then rumour is the bastard child of truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Might Be

Rodney was surrounded by idiots. Not that him being surrounded by idiots was all that different from the norm, but it still irritated him, when he was crashing a deadline and he'd promised to get something done on a ridiculously impossible timeline (again, not something that was all that different from the norm), but today, he was just irritable about it. And despite the fact that Rodney being irritable wasn't even _close_ to being unusual, he was managing to be even less pleasant than normal.

And when Rodney was that unpleasant, for whatever ungodly reason, Wells had started to look to Zelenka to fix it. As if there was anything Zelenka even thought he could do bar drugging McKay's coffee. Which, sometimes, might not be a bad idea...

He took a datapad from the nervous looking tech girl whose name he could never remember and started to read it, his eyebrows approaching his hairline the farther he read. "You know, this is really interesting," he said, starting off sounding pleasant before his tone became thick was sarcasm. "See, because I'd always assumed that the people who were chosen for the Stargate program had to at least have some degree of higher education, or possibly the ability to _add numbers together without getting it wrong_!" he finished, getting louder with every word, then shoving the pad back at her, before ripping it away once again. "Never mind--looks like I'm doing it myself."

"_Rodney!_" Zelenka looked surprised at himself for his tone, but he sat up straighter anyway and just _dared_ Rodney to say something about it, for all of a half a second, before he said, "Rodney, you've been working non-stop for thirteen hours."

"See?" Rodney pointed at Zelenka, then glared at the girl again. "He's still mostly incompetent, but at least he can tell time, which indicates some degree of arithmetic capability. You should try it sometime."

Muttering under his breath, Zelenka got to his feet. "Don't you think we should maybe have a break?"

Rodney stared at Zelenka like he was speaking in a foreign language. "I'm sorry, a what?"

"A break," Zelenka said, slowly and distinctly, "where everyone can go, and eat, and have coffee, and we can all come back here later." Sounding considerably braver than he actually felt, he pointed at Rodney. "You too."

His head tilted to the side as he stared at Zelenka some more. "I'm sorry. Did we step into an alternate universe? One where I'm not in charge of my own lab?"

Scientists were already scurrying from the lab like half-frightened, half-relieved mice. Zelenka lifted his chin. "You need to rest, too."

"I do--hey--where are they all going?" Rodney demanded, coming close to stomping his foot in a fit of caffeine withdrawn pique.

"To eat, or nap--" Or just to get away from Rodney. "Maybe you should, too. I'm sure you'd like to see Colonel Sheppard?" Zelenka said, hopefully.

"Why would I want to do that?" Rodney asked, distracted again as he picked up the abandoned datapad and started trying to figure out how on _earth_ she'd managed to make those mistakes.

"Rodney, you really don't have to pretend."

"As usual, you aren't making the slightest bit of sense. Maybe you should take a nap. I'd hate to have you compromise this project by fumbling like a sleep deprived idiot, instead of just your usual incompetence."

Zelenka sighed and took off his glasses so he could rub at his eyes. "I think you really should go see him. You're cranky even for you, Rodney."

"And exactly how do you think Colonel Sheppard is going to fix that?" Rodney scoffed.

"I'm sure the two of you will think of _something_," Zelenka said.

Zelenka was being strange. Stranger than usual. Creepy, even. "Stop doing that. Stressing random words. It's dialectically unsound, and very confusing."

"Well, I don't see what you're confused about," Zelenka said. "Go get some coffee, go see Colonel Sheppard, and he should be able to help you relax."

"He's not exactly a relaxing person to be around, you know," Rodney pointed out, more confused than ever. "He likes golf and sports and things that take energy, and exercise. Those aren't relaxing."

Zelenka gave a little smile. "Of course, Rodney. Anything you say, Rodney." He patted him on the arm and turned to leave.

"Wait--you're mocking me." It had taken awhile, but Rodney picked up on those things now. Sometimes. "Why are you mocking me?"

Zelenka rolled his eyes. "I'm not mocking you. I'm being perfectly serious."

"I... you... okay. This is... all right. The rest of you go ... take your break," Rodney said, gesturing with his hands. "I'm going to stay here and actually get some _work_ done."

"Rodney," Zelenka said, "everyone knows."

"Everyone knows... what?" Rodney was getting impatient.

"About you and the Colonel."

"About me and the Colonel... _what_?"

"Rodney," Zelenka said, exasperated.

"_Radek_," Rodney huffed back, just as irritated. "Would you please stop acting like a teenaged girl at a foodcourt?"

He's assuming, anyway. Rodney didn't spend much time with teenaged girls when he was a teenaged boy, at a foodcourt or otherwise, but that's how they seemed from a distance.

Zelenka shook his head. "I suppose I shouldn't really expect that you'd even acknowledge what's going on, at least not to me, but I had hoped you respected me more than that."

And now Zelenka was sounding insulted? He was the one who was being all strange and obscure. "What does this have to do with respect? I've already told you, I have no earthly idea waht you're talking about. When have you ever known me to be coy?"

"Fine, Rodney, whatever you say." Zelenka shook his head. "I'm going to go have some dinner. I'll see you later." He sighed heavily as he walked away.

Rodney opened his mouth to protest some more, then scowled, brow furrowing impressively. Well. Now this was going to bother him.

*

Zelenka'd confused Rodney, and now he couldn't work, and if they all died in a messy explosion of some kind, he was totally, absolutely going to blame it on Zelenka for ruining his focus. He was muttering under his breath and paying no attention at all as he headed out in search of coffee.

"Careful, McKay," Ronon said, catching him by the shoulders when they collided. Obviously he needed coffee.

He grunted and almost fell to the floor, or he would have if Ronon hadn't caught him. "Hey, I... didn't see you there," he said, which was as close as Rodney really got to an apology.

"I noticed," Ronon replied. Which, y'know, he was hard to miss.

"I was... Zelenka, he was being completely strange. I think there might be something wrong with him, because he's making even less sense than usual," Rodney started babbling, even though Ronon hadn't asked him what was wrong, or why, or really anything at all.

Ronon stared down at him for a moment. "You've been holed up in the lab for over twelve hours," he pointed out. "Maybe he just needed to be--" _Sleeping? Eating? Away from you? Anywhere else in the galaxy?_ "--given a break."

"Yes, yes, yes, whatever, breaks are apparently necessary, but it was what he was telling _me_ that was important and confusing," Rodney said, shaking his head. "He kept telling me that I needed to go see Colonel Sheppard and that he'd help me relax."

Ronon grinned and patted Rodney's shoulder. "Now that's a good idea. He's in his quarters."

"Okay, why does everyone think that I need to find him so that I can relax?" Rodney's voice got louder all the time. "First Zelenka, then you?"

"Because of your relationship?" Ronon suggested.

"You're a member of the team too, and you don't see people suggesting that I get together and relax with you," Rodney pointed out. "It's the same relationship, right?"

"Only in your dreams, McKay," Ronon said, slapping his shoulder.

Rodney was propelled into the wall with a thunk. "Ow. Wait. What?"

"Go get _laid_," Ronon urged him, giving him a shove forward. "You probably need it."

He spun around so fast he probably had whiplash. "_WHAT_? With who?" he demanded.

"Sheppard, who else?" Ronon said. "See you later."

"Wait, no--what?" Rodney reached out and clung to Ronon like a limpet. "Sheppard? And... and... I'm... he... _what_? Where did you get that from? We're not... _what_?"

Ronon looked down at Rodney's hands, then disentangled himself from Rodney's grasp. "Yes, you are. It's not a big deal. I always suspected."

"Suspected _what_?" Rodney was making full use of italics today. "I'm not... I'm not... we're not! I'd know if we were, and we're not!"

Ronon frowned at him. "Why are you denying it?" Then he shook his head. "No, I don't want to know." Rodney gave him a little headache sometimes, right behind his left eye. "I've got places to go." Running to be had, marines to smack around, that sort of thing.

"Because... because it's... damn it!" Rodney could see that he wasn't convincing Ronon, and that was irritating. "I need Teyla."

"Sure," Ronon said. "I think she was in Doctor Weir's office earlier. See you later," he added, a little more firmly, and turned and continued on his way down the corridor.

Rodney stared after him, then fairly fled to Elizabeth's office.

Elizabeth and Teyla both looked a little startled by his sudden appearance when he arrived. "Rodney," Elizabeth said, frowning that concerned frown, "are you all right?"

He was panting a little--running wasn't his strong suit--and he needed a moment or two to compose himself before he spoke, holding his hand up to indicate that he was okay, and not suffering from some sort of allergy attack.

Teyla and Elizabeth exchanged a glance, then waited calmly for Rodney to tell them something. Anything.

"I'm not sleeping with Sheppard," is what he blurted out, once he could finally speak.

Another glance between the two women, and Elizabeth folded her hands on the desk and gave Rodney a gentle smile. "Of course not."

Oh. My. God. They'd gotten to Elizabeth too. "This is a nightmare. This is... Lucius. Is he here? Is he convincing you all of things?"

"No, Rodney," Teyla said. "Lucius is not here. Are you all right?"

"No! I'm not all right! Everyone keeps telling me that I should go see Sheppard so that I can 'relax'," and so help him god, he made the air quotes, "and there are significant glances and I'm being accused of denial!"

"But we all know," Elizabeth said. "There's no need to hide."

He was going to break down and cry, right here in Elizabeth's office. "I'm not hiding anything!" he protested.

Teyla got to her feet and gently took Rodney's arm. "I will return shortly, Elizabeth," she said, then guided Rodney out of the office. "Rodney, _breathe_."

Rodney stared at her for a moment or two, then took a huge, deliberate breath, and let it out again.

"Good," Teyla said, with an encouraging smile. "Do that again."

He obediently took another breath, although he clearly had some sort of protesting speech lined up for as soon as she stopped telling him to breathe.

She rubbed his back. "There. Better?"

He nodded, all but pouting. "Teyla, no one believes me," he said, miserable.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "About what?"

"About Sheppard. No one believes me."

"Ah," she said. "Well... no, we do not believe you when you deny your relationship."

Rodney's head jerked up and he made an incoherent noise of righteous anger.

She tilted her head to the side and tugged him along a little more. "We have all known for quite some time."

"There's nothing _to_ know!"

"True, I suppose it is not our place to interfere, but you have both seemed so much happier. And I'm pleased for you."

Another strangled and incoherent noise and Rodney stomped one foot hard, then huffed loudly and strode away from Teyla and down the hallway.

"Tell John I need to talk to him later!" Teyla called after him.

The sound that came from Rodney was something between a sob and a shriek.

*

The idea had been planted, just little snippets at a time. John would probably never be entirely certain just how far he'd meant it to go, how deliberate it all was, but it made things easy. if people thought he and Rodney were sleeping together, then they'd stop bugging him about it.

Why, yes, the Lost City of Atlantis was _just like high school_.

By the time Rodney made his way to Sheppard's quarters, he was in quite the state. As an expert in multiple fields, and a professional genius, he was not accustomed to having his word doubted. It was so unsettling that if he wasn't perfectly sure that he was _not_ sleeping with Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard that he'd be wondering if he was losing his mind.

There was a terrifying thought that was guaranteed to keep him up at night.

There really was only one solution right now. Find Sheppard, confirm that they were not, in fact, sleeping together, and make him _tell_ people that. People always believed him, despite the fact that he was regularly full of complete shit.

John had thought he'd just spend a quiet afternoon, given that he had the opportunity and goddammit, he was taking it. When was the last time he had a solid several-hour block of time where he could do exactly Jack and Shit? He couldn't even _remember_. But he wasn't at all surprised when the door chimed, so he set his book aside and got up to answer the door.

"McKay," he said, with that disarming smile he... always used, "project of doom all done?"

Rodney pushed past him like an incredibly stubborn sheep, turning around once he was inside and looking right at John with an intense focus. Yes. He was quite sure that they had never slept together. He would _remember_. Just like he'd remembered everything. "Well thank goodness I'm not losing my mind," he announced.

"That's always comforting to know," John replied, stepping away from the door. It slid closed behind him and he went to sit on the edge of his bed. "So we don't need to go searching for it all over the city."

"Ha, ha, very funny," Rodney said, sarcastic as ever. He folded his arms across his stomach and turned so he could keep staring at John. "When have you ever known me to be coy, or to lie, or to avoid saying anything but the complete and unvarnished truth, regardless of how just how much people don't want to hear it?"

John tilted his head to the side, pretended to count on his fingers, but didn't actually respond.

"JOHN!"

"Yes?" he said, wide-eyed and perfectly innocent.

"I should have known you'd be absolutely no help. Typical."

"I try really hard."

"I am not sleeping with you. I would _remember_ if I was sleeping with you," Rodney announced.

"I'd certainly hope so," John said. "I mean, if we were sleeping together, I'm sure we'd be _great_ in bed."

Rodney's eyes got impossibly huge for a moment or two, then he waved his hands about. "That's... that's really beside the point," he said quickly, taking a deep breath. "But you're agreed, yes? We're not sleeping together?"

"I'm sure I'd have noticed. And that you'd enjoy it."

Again, Rodney blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing like a demented goldfish. "I... yes, well. Anyway. Moving on. Excellent--you'd have noticed. Wonderful. Come with me," he said, stomping across the room and taking Sheppard by the wrist. "You can tell everyone that. We'll start with Zelenka, then Elizabeth and Teyla. And then Ronon. And then maybe just make a city-wide announcement."

"Why are we going to do that?"

"Because they all think we are!" Rodney stopped and turned to face Sheppard, still gripping his wrist. "They all think... and I said we weren't, and they're accusing me of lying and denial!"

"Is that so? How strange."

"So you have to tell them--tell them we're not! Tell them I'm not lying!" Rodney said, giving his arm another tug. "Why aren't you moving?"

"Well... because then Ronon would think I was a dirty liar."

"What?"

"I can't let Ronon think I _lied_ to him."

"Why would he think you lied to him?" Now _Sheppard_ wasn't making any sense.

"Because he thinks we're sleeping together."

"Yes, but why does he think we're sleeping together?" Rodney felt like he was caught in a loop.

"Well, he already thought we were."

He was getting a migraine. He was sure of it. "But... we're not," he pointed out, sounding plaintive and kind of pathetic.

"That's true, isn't it?" John sat down on his bed again, arms stretched out behind him, legs stretched out in front of him.

"This... why is everything so confusing?" Rodney pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked at Sheppard again. "Ronon thinks we're sleeping together."

"Yeah, he does. So I suppose everyone else does, too. Nothing really stays secret here, does it? It's like one of those tiny little towns where everyone knows everyone else and is in their business and everything."

"But... you're missing the point," Rodney stressed, going over and sitting down on the bed, looking determined and earnest. "All we have to do is have you tell them we're not. Because there's no secret. There's no sex! I'd know if I were having sex!"

"Do you want to?"

This was probably what an aneurysm felt like. Rodney stared at John again, doing the demented goldfish thing with his mouth, and nothing coming out but a squeak.

"I mean, everybody already thinks we are..."

"But... but..." Why was it so hard to come up with a compelling argument? Rodney specialised at compelling arguments. "But we're _not_."

"Not yet, anyway."

"I need to sit down."

"You are sitting down, Rodney."

He looked down. "Oh."

"You're sure you don't want to have sex with me?"

"I didn't say that." Of course, what he just said had larger implications, and ... did he?

"So what are you saying, exactly?"

"I... have no idea," he admitted.

"Me neither," John said. He reached out and put his hand on the back of Rodney's neck.

Sheppard was touching him. In a not-slapping-him-upside-the-head sort of way. "I need to sit down," Rodney repeated, but more quietly.

"You are sitting, Rodney," John said, rubbing his thumb along the side of Rodney's neck.

"Right. You said that already," Rodney said, his lips parting with a kind of a sigh as John moved his thumb like that.

John smiled. "Is it really so bad that we're sleeping together?"

"Are we?" Suddenly, Rodney wasn't so sure. "I... do you mean is it really so bad that people think we're sleeping together? Because I suppose, in theory, it's really not such a bad thing, it's just... there are facts. And truth. And correcting misconceptions."

"We don't have to correct them," John said. "Just a thought."

"Because... if it was true... they wouldn't need to be corrected."

"Exactly. How easy is that?"

It was confusing when Sheppard said logical things. "It's confusing when you say logical things."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm the logical one. You're the reckless one with strange hair." Rodney's hand came up kind of on it's own, patting the top of John's head.

"And of course, you're not big on change."

"You've noticed?" His hair just... didn't flatten. No matter how many times Rodney squished it with the palm of his hand.

"I notice a lot of things about you, Rodney."

"You do? Like what?" Rodney switched from trying to flatten John's hair to trying to stroke through it with his fingers. It was surprisingly resistant to that.

"Your mouth," John replied.

"What... what about my mouth?" Rodney was suddenly nervous. Was there something wrong with his mouth? Or was it something good?

John rubbed his thumb over Rodney's wide, crooked mouth. "I like it."

"Oh. So... good things then."

"I think the things I'd like to to do it are good, yeah."

"Oh," Rodney repeated, swallowing hard, and wriggling in a little bit closer.

"Yeah," John said, and leaned in to kiss him.

_Oh. OH!_ Now this was nice. John's hair was surprisingly soft, and it gave Rodney something to hold onto as he leaned in and returned the kiss

"You wanna sleep with me?" John asked, speaking quietly against Rodney's mouth. "Since everyone already thinks we are."

Intellectually, that was probably a pretty stupid reason to sleep with someone. But when John was murmuring against Rodney's mouth like that, and his hair was soft, and he actually tasted really good, and was strangely attractive, despite not being a blonde woman... it just seemed like a really, terribly good idea all of a sudden. "I think that might be the best course of action, yes."

"I love it when you agree with me, Rodney." John licked over Rodney's lips. "I think it turns me on."

"It's too bad it isn't a more frequent occurrence then, isn't it?" Rodney babbled when he was nervous. And turned on. And... pretty much all of the time. "The agreeing with you part. I like the part where it turns you on though, so maybe you should try and be right a little more often."

"I'm always right," John said, grinning as he pushed Rodney over onto the bed, never mind that they were lying across it, rather than comfortably lengthwise on the narrow little mattress.

Rodney managed to scoff and go 'oof' both at the same time, because while John was cute, and surprisingly sexy, he certainly wasn't right all the time. "I'm sorry, but I think you're forgetting the time when--"

John decided the best thing to do was to shut him up with another kiss. "And another thing? Don't even get me started on how hot it makes me when you apologise."

"You really need to find some things about me that turn you on that are a lot more likely to happen," Rodney said somewhat breathlessly.

"Touch my hair again," John suggested. "I like that a lot." He also really liked kissing Rodney, so he supported his head as he kissed him again and again.

Rodney really liked John kissing him, and he liked that John liked it when he touched his hair, so he was more than agreeable to both, tugging a little bit as he worked his fingers through the thick, dark strands.

John actually moaned softly into Rodney's mouth. He _really_ liked those fingers in his hair. He liked the way Rodney tugged on it and he liked the way he could rub himself against Rodney's thigh. That was nice. Rodney was just _solid_ underneath him and warm and... "Want you."

There was a part of himself that was really trying hard not to ask 'why?', but fortunately it was being drowned out by the rest of him, which didn't care about why as long as John didn't stop. He made a noise of sincere approval and tugged on his hair again, pulling John into another kiss.

John finally tore himself away from Rodney, pushing the jacket off his shoulders. "I _want_ you," he all but growled at him.

And there was something else to add to the list of things that Rodney liked. That tone of... he really wasn't even sure what to call it, but he liked it a _lot_, and he wanted to hear it more. "Yes--definitely--do something about that," he babbled getting tangled up in his jacket and finally tugging it off and throwing it to the floor.

"Oh, I plan to," John said, with a big, big grin. He bit lightly at Rodney's lower lip, then finished getting him undressed, fingers swift and determined on buckles and zips and shoelaces.

"God, you're _really good_ at this," Rodney groaned without meaning to, then lifted up his head a little bit nervously. "Hey, you're really good at this. Who else have you been sleeping with while you've been sleeping with me?" The fact that it was a rumour with no real factual basis behind it was unimportant.

"Ronon," John said, still grinning widely. He tugged his shirt over his head. "Teyla, Carson, Elizabeth, Radek, Lorne, Chuck, the French guy who works in the botany lab..."

"What?" Rodney sat up, not sure whether to believe him or not, but looking wildly indignant all the same. "My GOD you're like a petri dish!"

John shoved him back down, laughing. "It's so easy to get you all riled up."

"I can think of a lot more constructive ways that you could spend your time right now, John!"

"You're right," John agreed, "so can I." He leaned down and nuzzled at Rodney's cock. "How's that?"

Rodney just moaned, grabbed at John's hair again, and held on tightly.

"Tell me what you want, Rodney," John said. "You like talking so much--tell me what you want."

"Ohgod, it's been a really long time," Rodney groaned, then groaned again, but for a totally different reason, namely that he hadn't meant to say that part out loud. "Oh _god_, can you just pretend I didn't say that?"

"Sure." John trailed the tip of his tongue up the length of Rodney's cock, then lifted his head again. "If you tell me in no uncertain terms what you want from me."

He'd always known that Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was _evil_. "I want you to keep doing that, that with your mouth, and your tongue, and maybe a little bit of teeth if you're really careful, and since everyone already thinks we're fucking anyway, I really, really think that you should. Fuck me. A lot."

"Best idea you've ever had," John murmured, licking his lips before going back to lavishing attention with tongue--and a little teeth--to Rodney's cock. Good God, why had he waited _so_ long to do this? He should have just accosted Rodney in a hallway, instead of waiting for the eventuality that he'd show up at his door all a-flail.

Why on _earth_ hadn't either of them done this sooner? Rodney was babbling away a mile a minute, all praise and encouragement and 'to the left, to the left' and 'God, just like that', and a bit of a tug on John's hair both to redirect him and show him just how much he was very sincerely into what John was doing.

However they'd all gotten the idea that he and John were sleeping together, they certainly hadn't been wrong about it being a good idea.

"Rodney," John said, over and over, lifting his head and tugging rather desperately at his pants. Fuck, they wouldn't come off. He was stuck, and Rodney was _naked_ and right there, and he kept talking and--boots, stupid, stupid boots!

And then John's mouth was gone and that just wasn't going to work for Rodney, which cut off the stream of babble from him for a moment or two. Lifting his head, he looked down to see what the problem was, and for God's sake, you'd think someone who gave head like John did would know to take his boots off before sex, but then, somehow, that really did seem fairly appropriate for him. At some point, all of that had stopped being inner monologue and ended up being spoken out loud, but to make up for it, Rodney was being terribly helpful, getting the damned boots off, then fumbling at John's pants, shoving them down and out of the way.

"You're kind of clever sometimes," John whispered, hand going to the back of Rodney's neck and tugging him closer for another kiss, then another, and another. He eventually got him down on the bed again, his pants and underwear falling somewhere on the floor with his boots and socks. This time, Rodney's head was on the pillow, and John could lean over him, taste his mouth, taste his neck, flick his tongue over Rodney's nipple.

"Just kind of clever?" Yes, even now, Rodney couldn't resist taking some small offence at the not-quite-enough-of-a-compliment, although all was forgiven and forgotten as soon as John's mouth started moving over him all over again.

"Oh, stop bitching, Rodney," John murmured. "I'm going to fuck you, after all."

A pause. "Fair point," he allowed, wriggling and getting nice and comfortable under John.

"God, keep moving like that," John mumbled against Rodney's chest. "Just like that. Feels good." He laughed breathlessly. "I don't want to get up."

"Why would you have to get up? We're not even close to done yet," Rodney pointed out, just as breathless as John. He may not have done this in a long time, but he does remember how it all works. He thinks.

"Need lube if I'm going to fuck you," John said, softly. "And it's... not handy."

"You don't keep it within reach of the bed?" Now that was just impractical. Sighing, Rodney pushed gently at John. "Get up--go, get it, come back, right away."

"I've taken to rethinking my organisational methods," John admitted as he scrambled ungracefully up from the bed and all but stumbled across the room in his haste, nearly head-planting into a wall.

"If you knock yourself out and I have to call Carson, no one is ever going to believe that I didn't have sex with you," Rodney yelled after him.

John returned to the bed in one piece. "I'm the one who doesn't mind that everybody thinks we're doing it," he pointed out, fumbling a little with the lube.

"I don't mind them thinking we're doing it, I minded them thinking we were doing it when we're _not_," Rodney pointed out again, spreading his legs greedily. "If I'm having sex in other people's heads, I should at least be having sex in reality."

"Now you've got me wondering if the entire city jacks off thinking about what we do under the covers," John said with a lop-sided sort of grin.

"No, of course not, everyone shows up to watch you spar because they have a true and abiding love for martial arts involving stick handling."

John frowned at him in confusion. "What?"

Rodney waved his hand dismissively. "Forget it--not important--back to me."

"Right," John said, "being that you're the centre of two galaxies, right?" He set the lube aside, after slicking his fingers, and then pressing one gently against Rodney's hole. He leaned down and kissed his shoulder. "I want you. So bad."

"Something like that, yes," Rodney gasped, then groaned, lifting his hips up off the bed. "Yesyesyes," he muttered, eyes closing at the first touch of John's fingers.

"Yes, yes, yes?" John echoed, licking at Rodney's neck, tasting salt-sweat, tasting _Rodney_. "More?"

"UNGH!" Rodney grunted out, hips bucking up hard as he nodded like a bobblehead doll. Freaky things those.

"Was that a yes, Rodney? I'm not so sure I understand..."

"YES!" he hollered, so loudly that poor Chuck probably heard him up in the control room.

"Okay, okay," John said. "Shh, Rodney. I've got you." He pressed a little kiss to Rodney's shoulder and pressed a finger into his body, groaning softly at the tight heat of him.

Rodney let out another babbled stream of 'yes'es', sighing and relaxing as he felt John's finger push inside his body. "Ohgodyes, don't stop, please, more, lots more, GOD."

"Lots more, huh?" John said, teasing, then moving between Rodney's legs. "I'll give you more as soon as you want it."

He was distracted, or he'd probably smack John upside the head for being a tease. "John please don't stop," he groaned, clenching tightly around his finger.

"I won't," John promised, pushing another finger into Rodney's body. "Not until you want me to."

"Count on that not happening for quite some time--at least well after we've both come."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," John said. He pulled his fingers free and reached for the lube again, and a condom. His fingers shook a little as he looked up at Rodney. "You really want this? Because there's going to come a moment very soon where I will not be able to stop at all."

"I swear to God, John, if you don't fuck me soon, I'm going to have to either get Ronon drunk, or build some sort of wearable device for Teyla, and both of those things will involve a considerable investment of time that I don't want to spend right now."

"Now you've got me imagining Teyla fucking you with a strap-on," John said with a little smile. "That's some great imagery." He pulled his fingers free and rolled the condom on, then pressed closer. "But this'll be better, right?"

He hesitated just long enough for that image to settle into his brain, then couldn't make himself answer when John pulled his fingers away, lifting his hips up and whining in a very needy way.

John gently hushed him and pushed into Rodney's body with a loud groan. He wanted to say something encouraging and thoughtful, but the only noise that came out of him sounded somewhat like he was choking on something small and annoying.

Which was just fine because as soon as John was inside him again, Rodney was babbling enough for the both of them, not that any of it made much of any sense.

John squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead on Rodney's shoulder for a moment, bent over his body, gasping for breath and trying to hold on to some thread of his sanity. And then he started to move, slow and steady and determined, and he groaned, loudly. "Ohhgod _Rodney_."

Why hadn't Rodney paid attention to what people were saying about him behind his back _months_ ago? Apart from the usual envy, jealousy, and hero worship, there was the rumours of _this_ (and accompanying envy, jealousy, and hero worship), and he and John could have been doing this for god knew how long. He moaned back and lifted up beneath John, tensing around him all over again.

"Fuck!" The word escaped on a harsh breath, and John reached down with one hand to grasp Rodney's hip. He thrust into him, hard, just once, before falling back to the slower pace. They'd have other opportunities, he knew that, but he wanted this to be _right_. He wanted to drive Rodney absolutely crazy--even though that sometimes wasn't at all difficult.

It certainly didn't seem to be all that difficult at the moment, considering the way that Rodney was vehemently protesting the slower pace with every buck and thrust, alternately pleading for more and babbling in approval.

"Come on, Rodney," John said, voice rough and raw. "You don't want it to be over already, do you?"

For a moment or two, Rodney blinked up at John like he didn't understand the question, then he thought about it, took a deep breath, shaky as hell, and relaxed under him.

"That's it... _fuck_." John swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He said Rodney's name, over and over, as he kept up that slow, maddening pace. Rodney felt so hot around him, so damned good, and it was just perfect when Rodney fell in step. They were always perfect when they were in step with each other.

Rodney didn't do slow and steady and deliberate most of the time. He did frantic. He did quick and fast, multitasking. Packing as much into as short an amount of time as possible. But this... this was good. This was maybe even better.

"That's it, Rodney," John whispered, soothing, encouraging, moving a hand up into Rodney's hair. "You feel so good. I want to _make_ you feel good." Because good goddamn if John didn't feel in-fucking-_credible_ right now, buried in Rodney's body, moving languorously over him.

"If... if you haven't figured out that I'm feeling pretty good right now, I'm obviously doing something wrong," Rodney managed to say, voice shaky, gasping for breath every couple of words.

"Rodney." John lifted his head and kissed Rodney again, hard, demanding, pushing his tongue into Rodney's mouth. The thread of his control--or maybe his sanity--was slowly starting to unravel, but while he was still in possession of some measure of self-restraint, he was determined to keep this up. Because the next time they got the opportunity to be together, he somehow suspected it wouldn't be when they had time to _enjoy_ each other like this.

Rodney wrapped both arms around John's neck and buried one hand in his hair, holding him in the kiss and whining into his mouth. The slow thing was working out for both of them, but at the same time, he wanted more. More of all of it--more friction, more speed, more. Just more.

And John knew, somehow, deep in his bones, that was what Rodney wanted. It was what John _needed_ at any rate. He pushed in hard as he bit at Rodney's lip, and started the hard, quick rhythm of his hips that he knew would push him over the proverbial edge.

He held on tighter, babbling nonsense against John's mouth, into every kiss. There was a sense of need combining with relief as Rodney matched John's pace, wanting to touch himself, but not wanting to let go of John long enough to do it.

John didn't make Rodney let go, instead reaching between them and wrapping his fingers around Rodney's cock. "Come for me," he growled against Rodney's mouth. "Please, Rodney."

 

The growl. The growl was going way up on the top of the list of things that turned Rodney on about John. Especially when he was touching him and fucking him and pretty much all of those things. Gasping, then letting out a strangled sound, Rodney's entire body tensed as he came over John's fist.

That was what John needed. He felt Rodney's body tense, and he fucked him harder--harder--just for a few ecstatic, incredible moments before he came with a strangled groan.

Rodney couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and he actually didn't care. He was feeling too good to be all that concerned about it right now.

John eventually collapsed at Rodney's side. He found his hand between them and curled his pinky around Rodney's, but he didn't say anything. He was pretty sure his voice had just gone on vacation.

He half-smiled when John's hand found his, which was as much of a smile as he had energy for right at that moment, grunting in a very contented sounding way.

_That was amazing._ John wanted to say it out loud, but his voice was still elsewhere, so he turned his head to look at Rodney and gave him a little smile in return.

Rodney tried to speak, but his voice just made a funny noise. Clearing his throat a few times, he licked his lips, and tried again. "How did he know?"

"Uh?" John turned toward him and kissed Rodney's shoulder.

"Ronon. You said he already knew. That... something about not wanting to be a liar. How did he already know? How would that make you a liar?" Rodney's ability to talk came back way more quickly than should be humanly possible.

"Ah," John said. "That." And then he yawned.

"Hey, _Kirk_," Rodney scowled at him, reaching around to swat his ass. "Answer questions first, pass out from manly lovemaking after."

"Manly lovemaking?" John echoed. "Mmm, nice." He snuggled closer and closed his eyes.

"I'm unlikely to shut up and let you sleep until you answer, you know that, right?"

"Nnf," John replied. "Well, Ronon already thought we were fucking..."

"Yes, yes, I already know that part," Rodney waved it off. "I'm asking _why_."

"He just already did. So I... let him think we were."

A beat or two of silence. "You did _what_?"

"I might have, in not so many words, just... agreed that we were sleeping together. I can't help it if Ronon can't keep secrets."

"Why would you agree that we were sleeping together?" Rodney's voice got higher pitched with every word.

"So he'd stop making fun of me?"

A few longer beats of silence. "You're a high school girl, Colonel. You know that, right?"

John groaned. "I'm a walking cliche."

"Well, at least the hair suits. At least, I'm sure there were girls when I was in high school who had hair that stood up like that. They had to do things involving spray and gel and backcombing to accomplish it, but still."

"It just does it on its own," John mumbled sleepily. "All I need is a towel."

"Fascinating," Rodney said, disturbingly inquisitive, his hand coming up to poke at John's post-sex hair.

"Ennnnh," John said, terribly articulate. "_Nap_ now."

"So... no product at all, and it just does that?" Rodney wriggled up a little higher and poked again.

John groaned. "Maybe a little sculpting... stuff... thing... Rodney, can't we roll over and go to sleep now?"

"Okay, I changed my mind. You're obviously a man and not a high school girl at all." Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Thank God," John said, flinging his arm over Rodney's chest. "I don't have any nail polish."

Rodney let out an 'oof' as he was thumped back against the bed, kept from being able to figure out what properties John's hair truly had. "I'm not done with your hair, you know."

John put his leg over both of Rodney's and closed his eyes again. "Sure, Rodney."

"I think... there's something unusual about it. Maybe related to the Ancient gene," Rodney nattered, even though he was starting to wind down again, trapped under John's body weight.

"Okay, Rodney."


End file.
